


Professional Behavior

by astrangerfate, orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Hugs, Other, Post-Movie(s), Spanking, non-sexual discipline fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerfate/pseuds/astrangerfate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I respect you both as agents,” Steve says, because that’s true. “I don’t feel you showed that same respect for me or for yourselves today, and I do think you’ve earned some consequences. The nature of those consequences is up to you; I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> This is discipline fic, pure and simple. If that's not your style, you're probably not going to enjoy it. Characterizations have probably been bent a little bit to facilitate that, but I hope not too much.
> 
> As always, I own nothing, make no money, and mean no harm. 
> 
> Thanks go to hucknclem for being my constant enabler.

Steve closes the door behind him, taking a moment to breathe before he turns his attention to Clint and Natasha. The two SHIELD agents know why they’re still in the hotel conference room instead of packing and maybe squeezing in a quick shower; Clint is looking intently at the floor, and Natasha is staring blankly ahead, not admitting to anything.

“Does someone want to tell me what the hell just happened back there?” he asks. And he’s calmed down a lot since they neutralized Matskevitch and destroyed the base camp, but Clint still flinches at the question.

“Agent Barton and I were attempting to speed up the mission,” Natasha says, still without a trace of emotion, and Clint throws her a disgusted look.

“This isn’t an official SHIELD report, Natasha,” Steve points out. “You’re not talking to Coulson or Fury here.”

“Are we going to be?” Natasha asks him, levelly.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Steve tells her honestly.

A moment passes, then Clint speaks up, still not looking to Steve. “Nat and I thought it would be a quicker way of getting the job done if we split up and surrounded the camp with explosives,” he summarizes, his ears going pink. “We didn’t think anything would happen.”

“And what did happen?” Steve probes. Clint winces again.

“We were left without backup, Natasha almost got shot and I may have started a forest fire. Sir,” he says.

Steve nods. “I have a good mind to take both of you over my knee,” he tells the pair, watching them to gauge their reactions. Clint’s blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, and a spasm flashes across Natasha’s face before she regains control of it.

“That’s not SHIELD protocol,” she says, a little too defensively.

“And this isn’t an official SHIELD report,” Steve reminds her. “The two of you went behind my back and put yourselves in danger. As your CO, I’m embarrassed and disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Clint tells the floor, with obvious sincerity.

“I apologize,” Natasha adds, more formally. She’s still watching Steve, just as he’s watching her. “Are you saying that if we submit to a spanking, you won’t put the incidents in the report?”

“I’m saying it might help our relationships considerably, and make me more inclined to think you’d learned a lesson,” Steve says, not promising anything. This isn’t exactly the sort of behavior he can leave out of his report, not in good conscience, but presentation is everything.

“So you spank us and everything goes back to normal?” Natasha asks, scorn and disbelief in her voice.

“I respect you both as agents,” Steve says, because that’s true. “I don’t feel you showed that same respect for me or for yourselves today, and I do think you’ve earned some consequences. The nature of those consequences is up to you; I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint says, and Steve is genuinely surprised that the archer is the first to speak up. He raises his head to meet Steve’s eyes, still flushed but steady. “I’m willing to accept whatever consequences you feel are appropriate.”

The team is important to Clint, Steve knows, as is his respect. Clint hasn’t had a lot of people to care about him or have his back. In the aftermath of the brainwashing incident, SHIELD and the Avengers mean everything to the man.

“And you, Natasha?” Steve asks. He’s not sure he could only spank Clint for a stunt the two of them pulled together, but he’s betting he won’t have to; Natasha’s sense of fair play is keener than she would like to admit, especially where Clint is concerned.

“If you were Tony Stark I’d say it was sexual harassment,” she says coolly, her eyes flicking to Clint before settling back on Steve. “But you really are just doing it for us, aren’t you? So okay. If you’re spanking Clint, I’m up for it too.”

Steve nods. Clint and Natasha exchange the briefest of looks - something he’s not going to be allowed in on, he knows - and he clears his throat.

“I want to know whose idea this was,” he says, even though he thinks he already has a good idea. But that’s going to factor into the way he pulls this off, and he’s going to have to move carefully.

“It was kind of a mutual thing,” Clint says, avoiding Steve’s eyes once again.

Natasha gives an impatient snort. “It was my idea,” she says. “Clint just went along with it.”

Steve gives her a small smile of approval. “Thank you for your honesty,” he says, not missing the way Clint shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. He walks between his teammates, who turn to follow him as he makes his way to the conference table.

The chairs won’t do for this - they’re all comfortable, executive type leather with large armrests - but that’s given Steve another idea. He pulls one chair back from the head of the table, leaving a good three feet of room, and gestures to it.

“Natasha, if you’ll take a seat, please, I want you to watch this,” he informs her.

“Steve,” Natasha starts to protest, looking at Clint, but Clint shakes his head once.

“It’s okay, Tasha, I’m fine,” he tells her softly. “Let it go.”

“You got Clint into this,” Steve observes, with less sympathy than he might usually have, “and you ought to see how well that turned out.”

Natasha’s lips thin in obvious discomfort, but she walks to the chair and sits stiffly, eyes pointed to the conference table.

“Thank you,” Steve says, before directing his attention back to the archer. “Clint, I’d like you to pull down your pants and bend over the table for me.”

The muscles in Clint’s arms and throat are jumping, but he manages a jerky nod. “Yes, sir,” he says automatically, unbuttoning his pants as he moves to the wooden table. He shucks the material to his knees as he bends over, revealing black boxer briefs and bare thighs before he places his hands on the table.

Steve has found himself delivering considerably more spankings than he had ever expected in the twenty-first century, but at this point, he feels like he has a good idea of how they should proceed. He starts with an attention-grabbing series of swats to the fleshiest part of Clint’s cheeks. It isn’t necessary to use much of his strength; the repetition of quick, firm swats will do the job just fine.

The first set of swats is followed by another, and another. Steve makes sure to distribute the blows fairly evenly. On his third volley, Clint emits a small hiss, and that’s Steve’s signal to slow down a little bit. He has Clint’s undivided attention; this is the time to use it.

“Tell me why we’re having this conversation, Clint,” Steve tells the younger man, and Clint’s voice is tight when he answers.

“Because I fucked up,” he says through his teeth. Steve lands two swats right at the top of his thighs, and Clint leans forward a little, balancing his weight on his hands in an attempt to shy away from the blows. Steve can hear a sharp intake of breath from behind them; it’s clearly not easy for Natasha to see this, but he’s focused on Clint right now.

“I think you know that’s not the answer I’m looking for,” he says pointedly.

“Okay,” Clint growls. “Because Natasha and I split up, against direct orders, and it was stupid and dangerous.”

Steve lands another pair of swats in the same spots, and the pale skin blooms a brilliant pink. “And what are you going to take away from this?”

“I’ll do better next time. I’ll listen,” Clint promises. “I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Steve says, brisk but approving, and he winds up to drive the message home.

He’s spanking hard and fast now, a virtual assault on Clint’s ass, and the archer breaks after only a minute, dropping his head to the table, shoulders shaking. And Steve has decided that genuine tears are a signal to finish up any good spanking. He gives Clint another half-dozen spanks, slower, lighter than the ones that have come before, then rests his right hand on Clint’s lower back, feeling him tremble.

“I’m sorry,” Clint says again, unprompted, and Steve takes his hands and pulls Clint up into a hug.

“I know,” he says, allowing Clint to return the hug cautiously. “I know you were only trying to do the right thing, and I know you won’t let it happen again.” He keeps his arms around the other man until Clint finally pulls away, wiping his eyes on his shoulder covertly. He pulls his pants back to his waist, but doesn’t re-button them.

“Thanks, Steve,” he says. His voice is still low and uncertain, but Steve gives him a smile that says all is forgiven, and Clint swallows, nods, and turns to Natasha questioningly.

“If you want to go to your room and take a shower, that’s fine,” Steve tells Clint. He thinks he’ll give Natasha some privacy; after all, he’s already made this incredibly uncomfortable for her. But Clint looks to Natasha to make the decision.

The redhead is shaken in ways that almost no one would notice. But Steve is learning to pick up on her tells: the eyes that dart to his hands more than usual, a certain tightness in her shoulders that indicates she is calculating every defensive move she knows.

“You can go,” she tells Clint calmly. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not going to leave unless you tell me I have to,” Clint answers her. Natasha’s mouth twitches for the fraction of a second, then she stands up.

“Have it your way,” she answers, and she stalks past Steve over to the table, dropping her cargo pants altogether and stepping out of them as she goes. She places her palms on the polished wood, bent over in red bikini shorts that fit a little more snugly than Steve would have liked. Natasha was always going to be the more difficult part of this equation, for more than one reason.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve notices Clint sink into the chair Natasha has vacated. It has to be painful for him to sit, and Steve considers sending him to the corner for a moment before discarding the thought. Right now, he has to focus on the task at hand. Natasha deserves his full attention, and a little extra discomfort for Clint might just help the message sink in.

He approaches Natasha, but instead of beginning the spanking right away, as he’d done with Clint, he stands quietly beside her, not touching her, just close enough for her to feel his presence.

“What do you have to say to me about the mission, Natasha?” he asks her softly.

“I apologize for disregarding the plan,” Natasha tells him. “It was dangerous and… stupid, like Clint said.”

She’s not giving him an inch.

“I know you were only doing what you thought would be best,” Steve says gently. “You just wanted to make sure the base was destroyed as quickly as possible, am I right?”

Natasha inclines her head once, a move he would have missed if he hadn’t been watching for it. She’s still bent over the table, back curved perfectly, not making a move.

“But you’ve got to think about your surroundings and circumstances,” Steve says. “You’ve got to realize that if you’re under orders not to split up, there’s probably a good reason. You can’t be thinking you’ll always come out ahead anyway, because today you did, but someday you might not. And none of us wants to see that happen.” His words are for Clint as well as Natasha, even though he knows Clint doesn’t need to hear them as much.

“I understand. Can we just get this over with?” Natasha says. Steve would think he hadn’t gotten through to her, but he sees the way her shoulders tighten and her head bobs slightly.

“Can you promise me you won’t pull another stunt like that without a damn good reason?” he counters.

“I promise,” she says impatiently.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Steve tells her. “Whether I’m on a mission with you or not.” WIth that, he turns slightly and begins his second spanking of the night.

It’s a good thing, really, that he’s got the super serum working in his favor, because otherwise this would be incredibly tiring for his arm, he realizes. Natasha is quieter even than Clint as Steve makes his feelings known, and the only sound in the room is the smack of his palm against skin and far too little fabric. With the lower curve of Natasha’s bottom exposed, he can see his own fingerprints go white and then pink. He doesn’t bother lecturing any more, just continues the spanking until a tiny hitch in Natasha’s balance gives her away. He stops immediately.

“It’s alright,” he says inadequately, offering up his arm to her, and when she pulls herself to a standing position he can see the tracks of tears that have leaked from the corners of her eyes.

“I know it is,” she says, and to his deep surprise, she rises to her tiptoes and plants a quick kiss to his cheek. He can feel the wetness of her tears left behind as she backs away.

“Not quite yet,” he says. “You got a spanking, now you’re getting a hug.”

Natasha looks as though this may be the most painful part of the whole experience for her, but she allows Steve to put his arms around her and even rests her head on his shoulder for a brief moment before she pulls away again.

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, perfectly composed. She stands at attention, waiting for him to dismiss her. Clint is still sitting in the chair, watching them both intently.

“Go get yourselves cleaned up and get some rest,” Steve decides, knowing that both the SHIELD agents have to be exhausted after the last forty-eight hours.

Natasha nods. “Sorry about tonight,” she says, with the most sincerity he’s ever heard her express in an apology.

“Me too,” Clint agrees, rising to his feet with a look of relief. “You get some rest too, okay, Cap?”

“Thanks, Clint, I will,” Steve agrees, watching as Clint touches Natasha’s arm and they turn to go.

It’s only after they’ve walked out of the conference room together that he realizes Natasha’s pants are still on the floor.


End file.
